I, the Villain, Want to Save Myself, But the Yandere Heroines Disagree-Chapter 48 - The Puppet Master

Orson had barely left the dorm when he remembered that he needed to wear his uniform for the evening’s Student Council election.

Although it was still early, he didn’t feel like making another trip back later, so he returned to the dorm to change.

When he opened the door to his room, he saw Litte standing by his bed, folding his blanket.

“Litte?” Orson looked at him in confusion. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Uh, I... I thought since you haven’t been back for a few months, I’d check if your room needed cleaning and maybe take the blanket outside to air it out...”

“Oh, I see.” Orson nodded in understanding, then patted Litte on the head. “It’s fine; I can clean my own room. You can go back now.”

“No way.” Litte shook her head firmly. “Orson, you’ve already done so much for me. Let me handle small things like cleaning your room!”

“But—”

“Orson!”

“Alright.” Orson gave in with a sigh and nodded. “I’ll leave it to you, then.”

“Mm-hmm!” Litte nodded happily.

Cleaning the room was just an excuse—getting closer to Orson was her real goal.

Orson opened his wardrobe.

“...Didn’t I hang up my uniform before?” He frowned as he took out the uniform. “I could’ve sworn it was on a hanger.”

He didn’t dwell on it, assuming he must have remembered wrong. Completely ignoring Litte’s presence, he began undressing on the spot.

Litte watched as Orson removed his jacket, followed by his shirt.

His smooth, slightly muscular back was revealed.

It wasn’t overly bulky, but it was undeniably attractive.

Litte couldn’t help but stare. Standing by the bed, she swallowed nervously.

She hadn’t expected Orson, who usually looked lean, to have such a well-toned physique underneath his clothes.

So this is what they mean by “slim when dressed, built when undressed.”

“Ah, Litte, just do whatever you were doing. Don’t mind me,” Orson said, glancing at him over his shoulder.

Litte finally realized that she had been staring at Orson the entire time, which was rather rude. Embarrassed, she quickly busied herself tidying up the room. However, she couldn’t resist peeking out from the bathroom doorway, secretly watching Orson as he changed his clothes.

The Imperial Academy’s uniforms came in two styles. The male uniform consisted of a blue blazer, white shirt, black tie, black trousers, and leather shoes.

The female uniform included a blue jacket, white shirt, light blue skirt, black over-the-knee socks, and round-toed leather shoes.

After changing into his uniform, Orson turned and noticed Litte peeking at him from the bathroom.

“Litte, could you take these clothes and wash them for me? Just hang them on the balcony to dry.”

“Ah, okay.” Litte nodded and stepped out of the bathroom, taking Orson’s clothes in her hands.

Without saying anything more, Orson left for the Student Council office to prepare his campaign speech. Additionally, he needed to deliver a speech at this afternoon’s opening ceremony.

—

Meanwhile, Litte stared at Orson’s clothes in her hands, lost in thought.

Then she stopped thinking altogether and buried her face in the clothes.

She rolled around on Orson’s bed, clutching the clothes tightly.

—

Elsewhere in the dormitory area, in a different house, the nobles who had mocked Litte earlier that morning—and the now-swollen-faced Tyril—were kneeling on the floor in the living room.

“Orson said, ‘If you’re not happy, take it up with the Student Council,’” Tyril said, looking at the young man sitting on the couch.

The young man’s outfit was extravagant, his hairstyle meticulously styled. However, his face was pockmarked like the surface of the moon, and his fierce features, combined with his current anger, made him intimidating to look at.

He was Donny Florence, the eldest son of Giovanni Florence, head of the Florence family that controlled the Napolis Duchy.

Donny picked up a cup of coffee, gently blew on it, took a sip, and then looked at Tyril.

“So, what you’re telling me is that Orson isn’t trying to harm Litte—in fact, he’s helping him?”

“Yes.” Tyril nodded, then threw himself at Donny’s feet, clutching his legs. “Donny, you have to help me! Orson went too far. Look at my face—it’s completely swollen! He wasn’t just hitting me; he was slapping you in the face, Donny!”

“Tyril, look up,” Donny said coldly.

Thinking Donny was finally going to help him, Tyril eagerly raised his head.

The next thing he felt was hot liquid pouring down his face.

Donny had dumped his entire cup of coffee on him.

Tyril screamed, clutching his face in pain.

“What did I send you to do?!” Donny shouted, kicking Tyril hard enough to send him sprawling across the floor.

“I told you to sow discord between Litte and Orson, to create conflict within their family. And this is how you carry out your task?”

“Are you stupid? Did you not realize that insulting Litte would draw Orson to him?!” Donny spat on the writhing Tyril.

“You get punched twice and come crying to me for help?”

“Do you even know your place? You think you’re worthy of claiming I’ve been insulted?!”

Donny kicked Tyril a few more times before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“Take him back,” Donny ordered the other nobles. “I’ll let him off this time. But if he screws up again, he won’t get off so easily.”

The other nobles didn’t dare make a sound. They quickly nodded and carried the groaning Tyril out of the room.

Standing on the balcony, Donny sighed.

“What a pity.”

Although his first two plans had failed, there were still four years of academy life ahead.

“No rush, Orson. No matter how careful you are, you’ll slip up eventually. I’ve got four years to play this game with your Stranick family.”

—

That afternoon, the opening ceremony officially began in the academy’s auditorium.

The event started with brief speeches from the heads of each grade, followed by a speech from Headmaster Luca.

The initial proceedings were fairly dull, and the audience remained silent throughout.

But when Headmaster Luca finished his final remarks, he continued:

“And now, it’s time for our highly anticipated student representative speech. Please welcome our student representative, second-year, student number 001, Orson!”

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As soon as Orson’s name was announced, the auditorium erupted in applause. Many of the girls—and even some of the boys—had stars in their eyes.

Orson had set another record.

He was the student representative for the opening ceremony two years in a row.

Hearing his name, Orson quickly stood up, waving as he made his way to the stage.

He bowed to the audience before beginning his speech.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Orson, this year’s student representative...”

What followed was a string of utterly meaningless platitudes.